In fact, I do not have any sisters, unless you count my best friends (which I do).
This cake, however, is called the Seven Sisters cake - and I actually feel offended that Shoprite has, for some reason, called this a Danish Pull-A-Part cake.
I have not seen a cake like this in years, at least twenty years. Although, if you ask Josh, he will tell you that I have not stopped talking about it for what must feel like twenty years.
My grandmother used to buy this cake all the time and I have such happy and clear memories of my mother and aunt sitting with my grandmother, in my grandmother's kitchen in Williamsburg, in her tiny apartment that we all piled into for the holidays, with no one complaining, drinking coffee and eating this cake, before getting all the kids dressed and out to shul.
So we'd all fit, we slept everywhere in that apartment - under the table in the living room, three to a fold-out couch, on two comfy chairs pushed together to make a bed, and sometimes, when eventually, we got to be more people than that small apartment could really handle, the unlucky ones had to go next door and sleep in Netty's apartment. Where Netty went every time we all slept over will remain a mystery forever. But I do know that the kids were never sent to sleep in Netty's apartment because, as far as I can recall, Netty may have been something of a hoarder of things. Not quite TV-show Hoarders level, but stuff, with maybe some creepy dolls thrown in for fun - and there is no question in my mind that those dolls danced in the night.
Also, Netty had carpet on her toilet seat which we found way more fascinating than we should have, and, and! the tissue box was covered in the same carpet-type material. Where did she even buy that? I have no idea, and I'm not sure I want to know.
But I am kinda happy that I now know where to buy a seven-sisters cake anytime I want one!